


Spirit Phone

by snarlbeast



Category: Invader Zim, Lemon Demon (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, DJ intern Zim, Dib & Zim Friendship (Invader Zim), Dumb Teens Do Reckless Shit: The Fic, Enemies to Friends, Frenemies Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), GIR is Zim's little bro, Gen, Human Zim (Invader Zim), M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, Trans Male Character, Trans Zim (Invader Zim), ZADF, ZaDr, but I see them as eventually being in a qpp, explores multiverse theory and references canon, paranormal elements, tagging as both romantic and platonic bc that's up to personal preference, takes place in the mid-late 2000's era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarlbeast/pseuds/snarlbeast
Summary: In which 16 year old radio host intern Kazimir forms an unlikely alliance with local conspiracy theorist Dib. The two proceed to get in way over their heads when they begin investigating strange occurrences the rest of the world seems completely ignorant to.(Based off Lemon Demon's album Spirit Phone- each chapter is based off a song from the album.)
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 53





	1. Touch-Tone Telephone

**Author's Note:**

> First fic first fic!!!  
> So everybody talks about how fitting Touch-Tone Telephone is for Dib, which made me think... why not take it further? Pretty much the entire album could relate to IZ, so why not go WAY TOO FAR and just write an /entire fic/ for it?  
> Months later, I'm doing it. ...God help me, what have I gotten myself into.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my Spirit Phone AU!!

****

**Touch-Tone Telephone**

  
  


*click*

*static and white noise*

........

“Good evening disgusting worms, as you can see your assassins failed once again to kill me in my sleep and you must suffer yet another night of my bad hosting!”

*cue airhorns*

“You should know the drill by now, pathetic meatsacks. It’s 10 pm and this is your esteemed DJ and future overlord, the great !!!! **INVADER ZiM**!!!! signing on.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re all applauding and going WILD on your side of the radio. But we have little time for your trivial fawning over my AWESOMENESS! As your resident intern host, I recognize that somebody around here has to have their priorities in line, so it may as well be ZiM.”

“Tonight we are going to start by covering a local urban legend: the escaped mutant test subjects from the lab of none other than the nefarious PROFESSOR MEMBRANE...”

—————-

After ranting over the possible validity of an organized colony of mutated animals living in the city park, Zim took a break to play a selection of audio clips and music he’d compiled for the radio show. Leaning back in his chair, he chugged some PoopCola and checked to see if there had been any callers yet. Hosting the late night paranormal broadcast had meant a lot of long, boring hours so far, and although everyone else on this planet was dumb as doorknobs their inane calls at least provided some form of entertainment.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be no such luck tonight, all the lines dark except for a single one faithfully blinking away like it did every night. He’d been warned by the senior DJs in charge of the program to ignore that particular line at all costs; it had been specifically programmed to only receive calls from a single particular caller, to ensure they were never accidentally picked up.

When he asked how a loyal caller could ever be a BAD thing, Zim had been told the guy behind these calls had a “reputation”. Apparently he was almost unanimously considered a pest by the paranormal community, infamous for his tenacity and persistence. He was known for being given an inch and immediately taking a mile, and was notoriously hard to shut up once he got going. Of course, these traits alone weren’t exactly bad, which brought one to the most important point: the guy was patently insane. If his rantings and ravings were ever backed up with evidence, he’d be renowned in the field by now, but something always inconveniently happened to his proof, leaving him with nothing but lofty claims that were far outside the realms of reality.

Zim knew his instructions. He had no reason to question what he’d been told, given how consistent everyone’s stories about the lunatic were.

Yet this night was so painfully BORING...

The thought of enduring another night of silence and monotony was enough to have his hand reaching over to answer the line before he realized what he was doing. Right before his fingers pressed the button he jerked to a stop, reminding himself to think this through.

But surely even the ravings of a madman were better than this, right...?

If it DID turn out to be a disaster, he’d just move on and not play back the recording for the listeners. What did he have to lose?

With that in mind, Zim steeled his nerves and jammed his finger against the button, accepting the call.

“Supreme leader Invader ZiM speaking! What brings you to my incredible show, stranger?!”

_“...wait, is this an actual person? Not just a recording???”_

“I mean, I can always send you to voicemail if you want, stinky-“

_“NO NO NO NO NO DON’T HANG UP! I just can’t believe I got through! FINALLY! I call you guys practically every night, y’know?!”_

“Ehh, not practically. Pretty sure it’s literally every night. Now are you just calling to waste the great ZiM’s time, or do you actually have something of value to say, ya weirdo?!”

_“Something to say?”_

“Yes.”

_“Do /I/ have something to say?”_

“Yes.”

_“You’re asking ME, if I have something to say??”_

“I am.”

_“You really think I’d call every night like this if I didn’t have something to-“_

**“THEN GET ON WITH IT ALREADY YOU FOOLISH WORM BABY!!!!”**

_“HELL YES I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY: THE T R U T H! THE AWFUL TRUTH ABOUT ME, ABOUT YOU, ABOUT /EVERYONE/ ON THIS DAMN PLANET!! IT’S TIME FOR THE PEOPLE TO KNOW, KNOW HOW THEY’RE BEING MANIPULATED AND CONTROLLED!”_

“...Eh?”

_“That’s right! The government is hiding even more than you could possibly imagine! You’ve noticed how stupid and ignorant everyone is, right?! That’s not natural, it’s ON PURPOSE!! There’s a coordinated effort happening to keep the world’s populace distracted and blind to what’s going on around them, and that’s barely scratching the surface!”_

“...Let me get this straight: you have a million conspiracies you could open up with to get the great ZiM’s attention, and you choose the classic ‘New World Order is dumbing the people down so nobody opposes them’ shtick? I’m disappointed, worm boy.”

_“Huh? What are you talking about? It’s not a conspiracy, it’s the truth! And that’s not the even the only issue here, it’s just the reason why nothing’s being done about all the other BIG PROBLEMS!”_

“Ooooooh, enlighten me, worm-stink, what ‘big problems’ are there?”

_“Okay, FIRST, would you stop calling me names?! That last one didn’t even make sense! I go by Mothman!”_

“...I am NOT calling you Mothman, weirdo. That’s just awkward. I don’t know who you are, but you’re certainly not a winged insect man beast.”

_“Oh come on! It’s my codename! Nobody goes by their real names in this field!”_

“Sure, but MOTHMAN? Yech. Ew. Lame.”

_“Ugh, would you just listen already?! Look, what I’m saying isn’t some broad, sweeping generalization about ‘sheeple’ or whatever dumb crap you’re assuming. I’m talking about every television program, celebrity, restaurant, video game, all of it being focused exclusively on promoting materialism and consumerism, discouraging any critical thinking. It’s simultaneously a ploy to distract us from everything else going on in the world AND subliminal messaging to control the masses and keep them dumb, angry, and ignorant. It’s a sophisticated effort that recruits people from every position of power there is!”_

“Hmmmmm.”

“ _Look, I get it if you don’t believe me, but just keep an eye out the next time you’re out in public! It’s actually blatantly obvious once you know to look for the signs, I swear!”_

“...the great ZiM thinks you’re even crazier than everyone says, Mothsmelly. ZiM is going to hang up now in case your insanity is contagious!”

_“Wait, don’t hang up yet, I’m not done! ...Did you just call me MOTHSMELLY, what the fuck man-“_

_*_ click*

Jeez, loon didn’t even BEGIN to cover it. The guy was a schmillion times freakier than even Zim could handle… and that was saying something, considering how chaotic Zim’s younger brother was. It wasn’t as if everything “Mothman” had said was even wrong. Of COURSE this planet’s inhabitants were dumber than doorknobs, Zim had been forced to endure their presence for over 16 painful, stupidity-filled years now!! Practically every person on Urth was a damnable fool, an irredeemable useless waste of resources and oxygen, milling about like pathetic aimless livestock. Zim had stopped paying attention to his fellow “humans” years ago- he was above all of them, and he had no reason to acknowledge their presence until the day he finally took his rightful place as ruler over all life on Urth.

But the stupidity of mankind wasn’t an orchestrated conspiracy, it was simply an inherent trait, the inevitable genetic failure of beings less evolved than someone as advanced as himself. Zim took pride in being an underappreciated black sheep among his kind, for it meant the machinations of his brilliant mind were too complex for anyone else to comprehend! And that caller was no different from the rest!

Deciding it was time to stop fooling around, Zim swore not to give the lunatic on the phone another thought and moved on with his shift. He had to stay alert, he had school in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters are necessary worldbuilding and exposition; thankfully I already have a lot of that written!
> 
> I'll be updating as soon as I can in between my college work, comments and kudos are GREATLY appreciated because I'm nervous <3 I can't wait to get this wild ride rolling!!


	2. Angry People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zim has an eventful day and is forced to reflect on what kind of world he /really/ lives in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally edited this chapter to my satisfaction!!
> 
> Zim is 1) stubborn, and 2) canonically terrible with names, which I can relate to far too well (oops). This chapter is still relatively short, but they'll continue getting longer as we go. I'm trying to keep the setting as close to canon as I can, because I love the constant absurdity and lack of predictability in IZ.
> 
> TW, just in case: very brief mention (one sentence) of child abuse at the start of the chapter. I'm basing Zim's parents off the roboparents from the series, and well... they're pretty garbage at being parents. Some people may not consider "physically disciplining" your kids as abuse but it is to me so I wanted to mention it.
> 
> Anyway, since Skoodge is in this chapter please check out my design for him: https://snarlbeast.tumblr.com/post/634983029856747520/im-about-to-upload-the-next-chapter-of-my-spirit

**Angry People**

The following day was bizarre enough that it made Zim do something he rarely bothered with: _rethink his opinions._

**********

Zim glided down the road on his auto-propelled skateboard, leisurely making his way across town toward his Hi Skool. Most of the time he just skipped, but on days like this he generally found it easier to just go and suffer through the skool day amongst his… ugh, “peers”. As painful as it was, sneaking back into his house at this time of day undetected was nigh impossible; between Gir running around, his mother _chasing_ Gir to get him ready for skool, and his father preparing to leave for work, there were just too many potential witnesses. He wasn’t looking to get his ass beat for truancy, so once or twice a week, when Zim DJ’ed on skool nights, he’d just stay up after his shift ended at 6 a.m. and go directly to class.

Narrowly avoiding a motorcycle and nonchalantly flipping off the rider cursing at him, Zim cut across the street and skidded to a stop in front of a busy cafe. Given the early hour and the cafe’s location downtown, it was no surprise that the place was packed. Despite how the sight made him grimace, Zim grit his teeth and entered the shop with his skateboard in hand. Being forced to be around so many other people was a small price to pay for the free coffee he bummed off a certain employee here…

“Zim! Right on time as usual!” _Speaking of which._

Zim turned and raised his hand in greeting at the barista waving at him from behind the counter. Skoodge was _entirely_ too cheery for someone who’d been dealing with cranky customers since 4 a.m., although that was nothing new. His old friend’s generally positive and unflappable demeanor was something Zim would never understand, but he admired the chubby boy’s loyalty so he graciously put up with it. Skoodge seemed immune to the glares and jeers thrown their way as Zim smugly bypassed the long line and approached the pickup end of the counter. 

“Heya buddy, did your night show go well?” Skoodge asked as he put the finishing touches on Zim’s drink.

“Well-“ Zim started, debating whether to mention the strange call with ‘Mothman’, but decided against it. “Eh, it was fine, of course! Certainly not interesting enough to be worthy of The Great ZiM, but nothing on this trashy planet is,” he replied instead, waving his hand dismissively.

“Aw, c’mon Zim, Urth isn’t _that_ bad,” Skoodge chuckled. “I mean yeah, it’s not perfect, but I’m sure there’s far worse places to be out there!”

“Ugh, you _would_ say something so disgustingly optimistic,” Zim snarked, rolling his eyes. “If the whole universe is filled with creatures as dumb as the people here, ZiM will NEVER catch a break! The mere thought is… unbearable,” he whined, shuddering in revulsion.

The barista shook his head good-naturedly at his friend’s dramatics. “Okay, but even for all your complaints about humans, I bet most other planets don’t have such easy access to treats like… **_this!”_ ** he replied, presenting Zim’s beverage.

Zim had already prepared another sarcastic response, but was stopped in his tracks by the distraction; he switched to making grabby hands, his attitude immediately improving. “Oooh, gimme gimme!”

The short teen grabbed the drink his friend held out to him- his usual, a frappe with extra whipped cream and far more pumps of sugary syrup than considered acceptable- and eagerly took a sip, sighing as the overwhelming sweetness hit his tastebuds. Nobody else made his “coffee” the right way; only Skoodge understood and shared his preference for copious amounts of sugar.

As Zim savored his saccharine abomination, Skoodge grinned proudly: his buddy seldom said thanks, but the obvious enjoyment on his face was all the appreciation the barista needed. Knowing he had to get back to work before his coworkers and/or customers started a riot, he turned away and said,

“Seeya at skool later, Zim!”, receiving a distracted hum of affirmation in return.

As Zim made his way out of the shop, sticking his tongue out at the envious plebeians forced to wait in line, something unexpected suddenly broke up the standard routine.

One particularly furious customer howled “ _I need my caffeine NOWWWWWW!!!!!”_ and, frothing at the mouth, began barrelling toward Zim, shoving others in line out of the way. In seconds, the cafe descended into chaos, filled with rabid customers blindly throwing punches and yelling about getting their daily fix as the employees watched behind the counter in horror. Seeing the original instigator approaching him, Zim decided it was time for him to get out of there and sprinted out the doors, hastily jumping on his skateboard and zooming away as the fighting inside began spilling out into the parking lot.

————-

By the time Zim reached Skool, he was noticeably frazzled and cursing under his breath.

This blasted DAY! What was _WRONG_ with all these foolish pigs, they were being even more enragingly incompetent than usual! It was only 7 am, too damnably early for him to have nearly been run over **4 TIMES.** And no, it was most certainly NOT his fault... at least, not the last 3 times!

People hadn’t _ALWAYS_ swerved around in their cars this much, had they? There was no way! He was _ZIM,_ a master of observation and aware of his surroundings at all times! He would have noticed!! This was obviously a freakish anomaly and **that. was. it.** Sure, he _usually_ had headphones blasting music in his ears, but he’d still have seen the people shouting, cussing, shaking their fists at everyone and everything.

... _Right?_

Zim jumped as he heard a car door slam nearby, followed by the distinctive sound of angry sibling bickering. Another slam echoed from somewhere behind him, accompanied by raucous laughter and obnoxious music. “ _Why is everything so loud?!_ ” he wondered, nervously wringing his hands. He didn’t have the patience to deal with this today, so things had better start shaping up soon. For now, he’d just have to bottle up, shove down, and smother the encroaching panic attacks.

Folding his skateboard back into its compressed form and slipping it into his backpack, Zim stomped up the steps to the local Hi Skool, stubbornly ignoring the gnawing anxiety churning in his guts. 

Unfortunately, in the halls he was greeted by even more chaos. Two kids snatched some nerdy-looking girl’s backpack and were tossing it back and forth. Zim watched as a missed throw resulted in the bag smacking a blonde boy to the ground, and stepped over his writhing form as other students nearby began pointing and laughing at his pain. He dodged a fight that was breaking out over which brand of cola was superior (as if they weren’t all owned by Poop Inc. anyway).

Finally making it to his locker, Zim leaned his head against the door and stopped to breathe. You know, he’d never given it much thought before, but _why were their lockers all sponsored by Bloaty’s Pizza Hog?_ He tried his best not to make eye contact with the soulless, pained image of Bloaty staring at him as he opened his locker.

He was lost in contemplation over how he could use peoples’ worship of pigs to his advantage when the escalating sound of arguing across the hall startled him out of his reverie.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, freak! Who do you think you are?!” _*BAM*_

Glancing over, Zim saw one of the school bullies ( _Chunk. Zim remembered his name because, fittingly, looking at him made Zim want to blow chunks.)_ had grabbed Dib Membrane by the shirt and was now sneering in his face as he slammed him against a locker. The blimp-headed teen was cussing the guy out as his terrifying little sister ( _Gus, was that her name…?)_ watched with narrowed eyes next to them.

“You gonna apologize, you waste of space?!”

“Apologize?! What, to you? It’s not my fault that your uncle’s probably a werewolf, I was _trying_ to be nice and warn you! Now let go of me already!”

Normally, Zim would stay and revel in the scenario, maybe grab some popcorn and enjoy the show. He and _the_ _famous Professor Membrane_ ’s son had been fierce rivals back in elementary Skool, after all, and he still detested the other boy despite not sharing a class with him in years. But the agitated look on the Dib-sister’s face _(he’d seen what_ ** _she_** _was capable of)_ , coupled with how today had gone so far, was giving him a bad feeling…

Before Zim even had a chance to close his locker and beat it, his old nemesis kicked out and kneed Chunk in the crotch. The bully spewed a string of curses and retaliated by punching Dib in the face. Zim heard a _crack_ as the boy’s glasses broke, and suddenly the temperature in the hall spiked by 20 degrees. He barely had time to recoil in fear as the Membrane girl’s anger overflowed and she pulled out what appeared to be a leg of ham; seconds after Zim jumped back Chunk’s form BLAZED past and destroyed the wall of lockers where he’d been standing. The blast was so intense it scorched the ground and left a trail of smoldering flames, and knocked everyone nearby on their asses. 

As the ringing in Zim’s ears subsided and he stumbled to his feet, he looked through the hole in the wall and saw the KO’d bully (...victim?) had crash-landed in the classroom on the other side. Glancing back towards the Membrane siblings, he dazedly observed the younger one ( _maybe her name was Gab?)_ wielding the still-smoking ham like a baseball bat, while the Dib laid wide-eyed and confused on the ground several feet away. As the drywall crumbled and teachers emerged from their classes to see what happened, the fire alarms all began blaring and the skool’s sprinkler system activated, soaking everyone in the hallway and setting off a chorus of shrieks and groans of dismay.

-

Over an hour later, after the Skool evacuation finally ended and the fire department left, a still-damp Zim trudged into his 2nd period classroom. The teacher interrupted the homicidal tirade he was muttering when he was no more than three steps into the room.

“Kazimir, so you finally decided to show up toda- excuse me, why is your face and hair singed? And… _*sniff sniff*..._ is that burnt ham I smell?”

Zim ignored her and collapsed into his seat as one of his classmates _(it sounded like that kid who used to stalk him, Keef)_ raised his hand and began explaining today’s Incident™ to their oblivious teacher. He zoned out soon after, wondering in disbelief how on Urth everyone else was so cavalier about the absurd shit happening around them.

————-

The next time he hosted, Zim felt far less hesitation in his fingers as he answered the call from the forbidden line.

  
“After _further consideration,_ the mighty Invader ZiM has decided to take pity on you and listen to your crazed ramblings after all… _Mothman._ Now, what was it you were saying about keeping the foolish humans perpetually angry and distracted by consumerism?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That image of Gaz is the last thing you see before you die lmao
> 
> I'll be expanding on Dib and Gaz's relationship as siblings more, but I like to think as they get older things improve. Regardless, Gaz has her reasons for being a bit more protective of Dib than she was in the past.  
> Next chapter will finally have Zim and Dib interacting more extensively, thank god! We'll also start getting to the main plot.
> 
> I was so happy to get comments and kudos on the first chapter; I'm beyond stoked to see people enjoying what I write! <3 Please keep giving me feedback, it fuels me to write more!!


	3. Geocities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib has an idea, Zim is cocky as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter that only vaguely relates to its title! Finals are over!!
> 
> FINALLY I CAN WRITE PLOT AFTER THIS ONE

**Geocities**

  
  


*static*

…………….

“Alright you worthless suits of flesh, I hope you’re ready to have your fragile little brains BLOWN. Because tonight, I, the magnificent Invader ZiM, have prepared a surprise you are all wholly undeserving of!”

*cue clapping and cheering sound effect*

“Feel free to worship me now and send me tribute in the form of ACTUALLY INTERESTING calls and as many sweets as you can get your grubby hands on.”

“NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO I AM PLEASED TO INTRODUCE TONIGHT’S GUEST-

The Voder!!!!”

*more clapping and cheering*

“Now, Voder, go ahead and greet the audience.”

_“GoOd EveNiNg, RaDiO auuuuDiEnCe.”_

“Brilliant! Fantastic!!

...Now, for those pathetic wretches who are unaware, allow me to explain. The Voder is the first form of technology capable of synthesizing human-like speech, and is the precursor to any and all artificial speech programs in existence. Although primitive by today’s standards and complicated to operate, it was a visionary undertaking back in 1939. **BOW BEFORE ITS MIGHT!!!** ”

_“YeS, pLeAsE bOw.”_

“Now I’m sure you’re wondering:

_‘But o great ZiM, who is controlling the Voder if it’s so complex?’_

The answer is ME! ME, OBVIOUSLY!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!!!!!”

_“FoOliSh MoRtALs.”_

“Yes, they _are_ quite foolish! Complexity is no match for one as prodigal as I! The average human needs to practice for an entire year to operate the Voder, but not ZiM! Oh no, merely two weeks of study was enough for me to master its use!”

“But _WHY_ did I bring the Voder into the studio today? Well, because this particular Voder is said to be HAUNTED- nay, _POSSESSED_ , of course!! Rumored to make noise and speak when nobody is operating it, a feat which should be IMPOSSIBLE!! I had to have it!”

“But _HOW_ did I get this Voder?

...DO NOT QUESTION YOUR FUTURE OVERLORD AND BENEVOLENT HOST!!! APPRECIATE WHAT ZiM HAS BROUGHT YOU UNGRATEFUL DIRT DWELLERS!!!!!!”

_“iF i HaD a ThRoAt I woUULD be cLeAr-i-ing iT rIgHt NoW.”_

“Ehhhh, yes. Ehem. Moving on.”

————-

Zim relaxed back into his chair, stretching and cracking his knuckles. Operating that thing was hard work! He’d never listened to so many _nasty mouth noises_ in his life as he had while studying to use it. Yuck. But it was worth the trouble, he knew it would be the perfect introduction seeing as this week’s program would be focusing on the eerieness of Artificial Intelligence and possessed machines.

Plus, it sounded creepy as hell. What’s not to like?

Sure enough, there had been a lot more callers than usual, and he was only a few hours into his shift! Everyone wanted to have their questions answered by the demonic spooky machine voice. He was a GENIUS!

Zim allowed himself a moment to wind down on his first break since starting the night. After noticing it was almost 1 am, his eyes strayed over to the lone phone line set off to the side.

_If the past few times were anything to judge by, that ‘Mothman’ guy should be calling again soon…_

Ever since the Bad Day™ he’d suffered through a couple weeks ago, Zim had been oh so generously allowing the probably-crazy “Agent Mothman” to rant to him when his shifts got boring. Which, admittedly, was nearly all the time. Zim was nothing if not dedicated to his tasks, but he still got stir crazy if left to his own devices for long. Giving Mothman feedback on how stupid his theories were at least helped the long hours pass.

Plus, Zim _had_ sought out this internship as a method of reconnaissance; he was always on the hunt for ideas, and subjugating the world via supernatural means would make him EXTRA incredible! Mothman was actually a pretty good source of potential leads… even if his credibility was questionable (at best).

Right on cue, the line lit up and started ringing as if responding to his thoughts. Zim grabbed a fresh can of soda before settling back into his seat and accepting the incoming call.

“You’re speaking with the Great, Mighty, and Ever-Intelligent Invader ZiM! Be grateful, worm, let me hear your thanks!”

_“Har-har, real funny as always ZiM,”_ the voice on the other end snarked back. _“Are you done with your one man circlejerk yet, or do I need to wait a bit longer?”_

“Well, since you so GENEROUSLY asked,” Zim spat, “I am indeed NOT finished with jerking the circle or whatever you just said.” Ignoring the exasperated groan from the receiver, he continued: “I didn’t hear any words of thanks or praise, so we cannot continue! I know you must be green with envy over the Voder; go on then, metaphorically kneel before my prowess and kiss my feet!”

“ _Ugh, no way! Like, yeah, your Voder was awesome… but just because you have good ideas sometimes doesn’t mean I’m gonna worship you like some twisted god!”_ Mothman replied, punctuating the statement with an exaggerated gagging noise.

Zim gasped in offense, struggling to recall how he’d thought **this** was preferable to being bored to death. After sputtering incoherently for a moment, he yelled “How dare you treat ZiM with such disrespect! I don’t have to listen to you rant about Bigfeets stealing your belt sander, I could just hang up instead, you know!”

“ _Yeah, but you won’t do it though. Like it or not, nobody else is willing to put up with your God complex for-“_

*click*

Zim huffed as he hung up on Mothman. That’d teach the jerk- he’d done it once and he would do it again! The nerve of him… saying _Zim_ was annoying as if he was any better!! Zim wasn’t the one who called **the same radio station** every night, even when nobody answered, because he was just that desperate to be heard. That’s right: Zim was the one with the power here, just as it should be.

Reveling in the petty victory for a moment, he couldn’t help but smirk when the phone line lit up again a moment later.

_Hook, line, and sinker._

Zim reclined back in his desk chair and leisurely took a sip of cola as he picked up the phone.

“ _Asshole!”_ Mothman’s obviously pissed voice greeted him.

“Eh, what’s that?? ZiM was too absorbed in his ‘God complex’ to hear you, stinky,” he replied, smugness and sarcasm coating every word.

_“I am NOT going to apologize for that, it’s just the truth!”_ Mothman argued. After a short pause, though, he sighed and said _“But fine, point taken I guess. It’s not like I_ **_don’t_ ** _appreciate your input- er, except when you’re just calling me names. I’m well aware of how blind everyone else is to this stuff… it’s like you’re the only person in the world who understands what I’m saying! So… uh, thanks for that?”_

Despite his best effort, something in Zim felt _far too honored_ about such simple words of praise. Perhaps it was the sincerity he could so clearly hear in the other’s voice, or the sense of reluctant camaraderie he felt between them: two beings more intelligent than those around them, cursed with awareness but unable to make everyone else less ignorant.

Or maybe it just felt **that damn good** to hear Mothman give in and bend to his will for once.

Regardless, Zim allowed a tiny, sincere smile to cross his face as he responded. “I SUPPOSE that was adequate. So… I’ll let your earlier transgressions slide- just this once!!- and listen to whatever hokey ideas you’ve got to share this time.”

_“Actually, speaking of ideas… I wanted to suggest a, um, proposition maybe? An extra precaution? Geez, I dunno how to word this without sounding creepy or something-“_

“Eugh, there you go again muttering like some kind of… _mutterer._ ZiM demands you get on with it already, just spit it out Mothboy!” the intern said, cutting Mothman off before he could start getting too off track.

_“Fine, FINE, okay! I was just thinking that given the sensitive nature of some of the things we talk about, don’t you think we should figure out a more_ **_secure_ ** _means of interacting?”_ Mothman hissed, sounding apprehensive.

“...More… secure? Ehhhh, what exactly did you have in mind?” Zim replied, not really following what the other meant. What sensitive things did they even talk about? Their conversations consisted mostly of mundane conspiracies and weird cryptid sightings.

_“You remember what I said the first time we spoke, about… the grand scheme to keep the people of Urth ignorant?”_ the agent explained, speaking quickly as if this was urgent. _“Talking to each other over a public phone line on talk show radio isn’t exactly DISCREET, y’know? There’s always people listening, we should start being more careful!”_

“Eh? What are you babbling about, Moth-crazy? You sound WAYYYYY over paranoid! ZiM would laugh if he didn’t pity your malfunctioning brain meats!” he dryly chuckled, hiding how on-edge the sudden turn in conversation had made him. It’s not like they discussed anything DANGEROUS, why worry? Yet, for all his mocking of the other, Zim could not deny that he too had always possessed a rather paranoid streak. Now that the thought had been implanted in his head it was quickly spreading, taking root like a seed of doubt.

_“Look, just humor me here, please?”_ Mothman said, taking a deep breath. “ _There’s a chat app on my phone that I’ve tweaked myself, it’s encrypted and never saves any audio logs or text messages sent on it. If you give me your phone number I can send it to you, and we can talk there instead!”_ he continued.

“You want ME to give you my _phone number?!_ No way, that’s about as stalkery as it gets!! You can find all kinds of info about someone with that! Have you the brain worms??!!” Zim yelled in disbelief.

_“Oh my god ZiM, what am_ **_I_ ** _gonna do with your stupid phone number? I bet you had to write one down to apply for this internship, if I really wanted to use something like that against you I coulda just looked through the files at your job ages ago and gotten any info I needed!”_ Mothman huffed. “ _Geez, and you’re calling_ **_me_ ** _paranoid!”_

“You can’t do that!” Zim gasped, scandalized. “You’d have to break into the office! That’s illegal!!”

“ _...There are so many dumb things about what you just said, starting with your own questionable morality,”_ the agent sighed, _“but most importantly, lots of places keep all that info digitally nowadays. I wouldn’t even need to be physically present to access the network, and they’d never catch me; I’d have nothing to lose if I wanted to do it. But I haven’t!”_ he hastily added.

Something about the casual way his conversation partner spoke of hacking into confidential sources made Zim pause. Sure, Zim himself had done so plenty of times- he’d cracked the Skool district’s security ages ago to change the name and other info in his file. And he still went back in regularly to change his attendance and ensure he wasn’t marked as chronically absent. But that was different… he was _ZIM!_ Despite how many times he’d talked to Agent Mothman, he’d never _actually_ considered him to be any kind of formidable threat. Just because he was intelligent didn’t mean he was competent enough to do anything with his knowledge!

Now, though, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just _perhaps,_ he had underestimated the other- only a little bit! But still.

Speaking of Mothman, he was evidently growing nervous as Zim’s silence drew on, because he started rambling again. _“Plus… plus think of it this way! I’m taking a risk here too you know! By sending you the app YOU’LL have MY phone number too, so if I were to use yours maliciously you could just do the same in return! So it really isn’t that big a deal I swear-“_

“Wait a sec,” Zim cut him off. “I already have your phone number, fool. I’m speaking to you on it _right now_ , duhhhhh,” he drawled.

_“Huh?”_ Mothman responded in confusion. _“...Oh, this? Nah, this isn’t my real phone- I’m not that reckless, calling the same network every night would make me way too easy to find! This is just a burner phone, an old touch-tone landline that only can make calls to this station. No caller ID, not linked to my name, impossible to track!”_

The intern just hummed in response, deep in thought; that was another point in Agent Mothman’s favor. Obviously the other was more cautious than he’d given him credit for. With that in mind, Zim finally responded: “Alright, fine, you’ve worn me down with all your yammering. ZiM will agree to your terms!!”

———--

Although they initially followed the same schedule- with Mothman calling during Zim’s shifts- before long the two were talking in some form or another near constantly. Mothman would send Zim (really crappy, blurry) pictures of things he encountered on his cryptid hunts late at night. Zim sent back the results of his latest biological or chemical experiments. They texted during the day. They called each other whenever they had downtime.

Zim quickly learned a lot more about Mothman now that they were speaking more confidentially. He knew the other had to live in his general area in order to listen to the Zim’s station, but apparently they even lived in the same part of town! Mothman was even the same age as him… and unlike Zim he rarely skipped skool. He'd said something about having really high expectations put on him by his father?

_Stinky Moth Smelly: Dude you’ve GOTTA see this!!!_

_[Stinky Moth Smelly sent a picture]_

The Great Incredible ZiM: I LITERALLY CANNOT TELL WTF IS CHASING YOU IN THAT. YOU SUCK SO BAD AT TAKING PHOTOS

The Great Incredible ZiM: ALSO IS YOUR CAMERA AN ACTUAL POTATO?

_Stinky Moth Smelly: Oh come on!! It’s obviously a rare full-grown Beeboogoat! Look at all the bees!!_

The Great Incredible ZiM: WHAT BEES. I SEE NO BEES

The Great Incredible ZiM: YOUR FAT HEAD IS TAKING UP MOST OF THE PHOTO

_Stinky Moth Smelly: ...wait did you FUCKING change our names on here again?!_

_Stinky Moth Smelly: SON OF A!!_

_[Stinky Moth Smelly changed name to Agent Mothman]_

The Great Incredible ZiM: DON’T YOU DARE CHANGE MY NAME MOTH BOY

_Agent Mothman: Fine! As long as you stop changing mine I’ll leave yours alone too okay!!_

The Great Incredible ZiM: VICTORY FOR ZIM!!!!!!1!1!!

“AHEM,” a voice startled Zim into looking up from his phone. Sure enough, his 4th period teacher was looming over him menacingly. He gulped.

“Caught texting in class I see, Kazimir,” the man snapped. “Phone, now. You can pay the office $20 for it back at the end of the day,” he continued, holding out his hand expectantly.

Clenching his jaw, Zim reluctantly closed his phone and handed it over.

_This_ was why he avoided this place.

-

After the final bell rang, Zim dragged his feet to the front office, reluctantly pulling $20 from his wallet. There went his precious spending money! He’d been saving up for new scanning equipment too, damn it.

Upon opening the door his day looked up just a little bit- apparently THE DIB of all people had his phone taken up as well! Ha! What a **loser!**

Completely unaware of his own hypocrisy (as always), Zim gleefully eavesdropped on the conversation his old nemesis was having with the desk drone.

“Mr. Membrane, this is the 3rd time this week you’ve been in here, and the 9th time in the past 3 weeks. If you keep this up we will burn your phone or feed it to the cafeteria workers instead of returning it to you,” the old lady drawled.

“Ugh, first of all, would you quit calling me that? I’m _Dib_ , I don’t wanna be known by my last name!” the teen whined. “And second of all, you can’t **LEGALLY** do that, it’s destruction of property! You don’t have the right to my stuff, you’re stealing students’ money already as it is!”

The drone stared at him, appearing to blink one eye at a time- Zim repressed a shudder- and finally said,

“You’re in skool. You have no rights here.”

Dib’s face slap echoed through the office.

“Okay look, just,” the tall boy rummaged through the pockets of his ratty old trench coat before pulling out a couple wrinkled bills, “just take, uhhh… here’s 40 bucks! Pretend you haven’t seen me at all this week!” he pleaded, shoving the money at the desk worker.

The lady raised an eyebrow skeptically and replied “I will not accept _bribes_ , Mr. Membrane,” ignoring the sound of Dib’s teeth audibly grinding. “You will pay your $20 fee and you will improve your behavior.”

As the Dib continued to argue with the woman, Zim felt his eye twitching in barely-suppressed rage. That spoiled **_brat!_ **He was so filthy rich that he thought he could just throw money at all his problems?!?!

The furious boy felt his hands start raising as if to wring the taller student’s neck- only to abruptly stop as he noticed his own phone sitting on the office desk next to Dib’s. A devious plan immediately hatched in his mind.

Zim slammed the door the rest of the way open and burst into the room, interrupting the drone- whose hand had been steadily inching toward the trapdoor activation button- and making Dib jump nearly a foot in the air, his voice cracking on a shriek.

“There’s no need to worry, ugly old office lady! The Dib-thing was simply being _GENEROUS_ and paying for myyyyy phone pickup fee as well!”

Disregarding the fossil’s visible confusion and his enemy’s howl of indignation, Zim wasted no time in sliding the bills forward and plucking up his phone. Before the room’s other occupants even had time to recover, Zim was booking it out of the office and cackling as he pulled out his skateboard.

As he leapt down the front steps Zim could hear Dib screaming “ _KAZIMIIIIIIR, YOU BASTARD!!!!!!”_

Ahhhh, it truly had been far too long since he last heard his name yelled like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! The next chapter should actually be uploaded in just a few days, since I have more time to write and/or draw now.
> 
> If you wanna see the unblurred/uncensored/less crappy version of the pic Dib sent here you go! https://ibb.co/BKNgfqZ
> 
> Comments and kudos literally make my entire day and help me write, so please leave me feedback <3333


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